


Just Friends

by dvs



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Sam is more awesome than you realise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 22:10:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvs/pseuds/dvs
Summary: Steve and Sam don't understand what the term 'just friends' means.





	

“Come on up,” Steve said, jangling his keys in his hands, nodding towards the door.

Sam stood by the waiting cab and scrunched up his face. “I dunno. It's pretty late.”

Steve smiled and said, “Okay. Grandpa.”

Sam was nodding at him. _It's like that, huh?_ Steve grinned at him, watching him turn around to to settle the cab fare. Steve walked on ahead, opening the front door. Inside, they rode the elevator up in silence, both of them standing side by side with their hands in their pockets, watching the tense square shoulders of another occupant of the building. Steve opened his mouth to attempt pleasantries, but Sam slapped a hand on his chest, shaking his head and mouthing, _nooooo_.

“I was just going to say it's a nice evening,” Steve said as they left the elevator and walked down the hall to his apartment.

“Yeah, and it is. For us,” Sam said. “That guy did not look like he was having a nice evening. He looked like he was waiting for someone to tell him it was a nice evening so he could tell them to take their nice evening and shove it up their ass.”

Steve stop in the middle of slotting his key into the lock to frown at Sam. “He did look pretty tense.”

“Yeah, smash you in the face tense,” Sam said.

Steve nodded, hands opening the door, but mind on the man in the elevator. It wouldn't hurt running into the guy sometime, maybe making polite conversation and making sure he was okay. Biner or Banner, that was his name. Steve switched on the lights, walking ahead of Sam as he took off his jacket. Sam closed the door behind him. They were still in the hall when Steve turned to ask, “Coffee?”

Sam stepped forward with a grin, cupping Steve's face in both hands, kissing him slow and sweet. Steve's jacket fell from his hand in favour of touching Sam's shoulder's instead, stroking down his back. Steve pulled back and grinned. “So, that's no to coffee?”

Sam nodded, grinning back. “That is a definite no to coffee.”

Sam stole another kiss. They both managed an awkward dance into Steve's bedroom, falling fully clothed onto the bed, the only light coming in from the hall. Between kisses, they managed to unbutton and shed their shirts, belt buckles and zippers requiring more attention. So much so that Sam jumped off Steve to pull off Steve's boots, followed by yanking off his jeans and throwing them aside like an epic feat had just been accomplished. Steve lay back laughing, waiting for Sam to get rid of his own pants, watching as he slid off his boxer briefs too.

Sam climbed back on the bed to straddle Steve, his fingers teasing the waistband of Steve's briefs, while Steve looked up at him, stroking his hands down Sam's thighs. Half-lit, Sam was all dark planes rising and falling where the light from the hall hit him just right. Steve couldn't help but reach out and touch the curves of firm muscle. Steve wanted to put the light on to see Sam, but Sam was kissing him, one of his hands pulling Steve's briefs down. Sam kissed a trail from Steve's mouth to his throat, down his chest and stomach. All the time, Steve could feel Sam's body drag over his cock, which was hard and heavy. As Sam moved down down down, Steve let out a gasp, his toes curling. Sam was grinning against his skin, nosing the jut of Steve's hip bone, kissing a deliberate trail away from it. A moment later, his heated mouth engulfed the head of Steve's cock.

“Sam,” Steve gasped, arching up into Sam's mouth. Steve's brain started to short out after that point, his hands either scrabbling for the sheets or trying to find Sam, his body's focus narrowed down to Sam's fervent sucking and the pleased sounds in his throat, the hum in his chest. Close to coming, Steve just about managed to splutter, “Sam, I'm going to-”

Sam, being quick, pulled off before Steve could come in his mouth. Steve came all over Sam's chest instead, which got a gasp of surprise, and then a laugh. “Oh my god,” Sam said. Then quietly, “Look at you.”

Steve was too busy getting his breath back, eyes closed, one hand lying flat on his chest, the other by his side, turned up for Sam's fingers, which found his eventually.

“How you doin' up there?” Sam murmured, his chin resting on Steve's hip.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a smile. He grinned down at Sam. “Come here.”

Sam sat up, using Steve's sheets to clean the mess off his chest before surging forward to kiss Steve. They stayed entangled with each other for a while, Sam's cock hard and persistent against Steve's thigh. Steve nuzzled Sam's throat, whispering, “Go on.”

Sam's hand stroked down Steve's chest, his palm lying flat against it, comfortable and at home. “Yeah?”

Steve nodded, rolling forward and pressing Sam down against the mattress as he reached for the bedside draw, his hand easily finding what he needed. Moments passed, Sam rolling on the condom, and then squeezing lube onto his fingers. It was a potential mood killer, but Sam was straddling Steve's hips, dropping the lube aside and telling Steve, “That's right, extra care, coming your way. I am going to take such good care of you. You're going to be so not sore for days. You'll be walking and sitting all over the place. I'm about to ruin you, Rogers.”

Steve tried but couldn't hold back the burst of laughter, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You're very sexy right now.”

“You know I am,” Sam said. “Now, get ready to have some of the safest sex of your life.”

Steve sighed, only to start to laughing again, all the way into new kisses and Sam's fingers slowly opening him up. Eventually the laughter ebbed away, Sam's jokes replaced by careful questions and endearments. Everything became soft and hazy, time slowing down until Sam was slowly pushing into Steve. Steve pushed back into the bed, turning his head towards the pillow, his breath catching and sticking as Sam stopped with a shudder and a gasp. They stayed still for a moment, just breathing, as if they'd both run a race. After a moment, Sam found Steve's hands, slotting their fingers together where they lay either side of Steve's head. Sam moved inside him with deliberate slowness, hips rolling into Steve, slow and sweet, Steve's grasp tightening on Sam's hands.

Sam whispered, “This doing it for you?”

“You're doing it for me.” Steve gasped, a thrust making him feel as if his whole spine might dislodge and disintegrate.

“Jesus,” Sam whispered, his hips beginning to move faster, in short sharp thrusts. Steve squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers gripping Sam's. It was over in seconds, Sam silent until he came with a few stuttering thrusts, making a sound that was something like relief and surprise combined. He flopped down on Steve, whispering, “Damn.”

They lay there for a while, Steve an immoveable object, whilst Sam slowly pulled away and cleaned up. Steve let his eyes drift shut, comforted by Sam's moving around him, listening to his breathing, still erratic. When Steve awoke, Sam was sitting up next to him under the blanket, one leg sticking outside of it, pulled up so he could rest his hand on his knee whilst pointing the remote at the TV, flicking through the channels. Steve blearily blinked at the TV, before turning onto his side and shielding himself from the glare by pressing up against Sam's hip.

“So,” Sam said quietly, “we really need to work on that definition of _just friends_. You know, Clint and I are friends, and I can't even remember the last time he tried to kiss me.”

"Christmas party last year," Steve said.

"Let me finish, sober. I can't even remember the last time he tried to kiss me _sober."_

Steve groaned and closed his eyes as Sam's free hand came down to stroke the back of his head and like that, Steve fell back to sleep, most of the day fading from his mind. When he awoke a second time, Sam was asleep, his arm stretched out across Steve's pillow, curling around his head. Feeling too awake and too warm, Steve carefully started to remove himself from Sam's side.

“What time is it?” Sam murmured, stirring from his sleep.

Steve looked at the clock and grimaced. “Almost four.”

“We slept all day?” Sam asked, lifting his head from the pillow to scowl at Steve.

“No, four in the morning,” Steve answered.

Sam's head fell back with a thump. “What is your problem?”

Steve grinned, giving Sam another kiss. “Go back to sleep.”

“Trying to,” Sam said, already drifting as Steve slipped out of bed. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, Steve left his bedroom for the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and heading to the couch in the living room. He switched on the news, almost immediately ignoring it to pick up the pad of paper and pencil from the coffee table before him. Leaning back, he began to draw from memory, Sam's familiar smile the first thing to fill the page.

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> This is from an abandoned fic that had comic book illustrator Steve finding his childhood friend Bucky again after years of separation. Bucky is a Jack White type singer who goes by the name of Jimmy Romanova (after marrying Natasha Romanova), having fronted bands like Romanova, Howling Commandos, and Assassin. After an accident, he becomes a recluse, and surfaces in a bar, where Steve sees him and draws a picture of him, dropping it before he leaves with his on/off boyfriend Sam. They meet again, dance around their potential relationship, while I sit and wonder how anyone could be in two minds about Sam Wilson. 
> 
> Abandoned fic is abandoned, because Steve Rogers derailed my whole fic by picking Sam. I do not blame him.


End file.
